Talking With Strangers
by SilverLockhart
Summary: Edward likes to walk alone at night when most minds are hushed in sleep and he can focus on his own ideas that dwell deep inside his crowded mind.


**A/N: This was inspired by a somewhat real event. One night I was walking home from class and I took a shortcut through a park. It was dark and creepy but so beautiful all at once so I decided to sit on a bench despite the horribly cold weather. Minutes later a man, a rather handsome man, walked by me and said hello. Then I thought, "This would be the perfect place to meet a vampire" and you all know who popped into my mind. I'm sorry that this doesn't have a great plot, or any plot actually. I guess it's just a drabble?**

**Disclaimer: Edward Cullen and Isabella Swan belong to Stephanie Meyer.**

* * *

I shivered. My thin jacket did nothing for me in the frosty autumn night. The streets were still except for the thud of my boots against the cold cement sidewalk and the rustle of leaves in the faint breeze. I walked fast. The darkness was unsettling.

I walked along the street past the church that looked high over the corner of Fifth and Seneca. I then jogged across to the Washing Square park. It was late, ten o'clock or so, and through the park was the quickest way home. It happened to be a Tuesday and no one was out on the street. I walked alone tonight.

My childish fears were getting the best of me. I had watched too many horror movies this Halloween- which had just been only a few nights ago. Thoughts of serial killers, ghosts and every sort of beast perforated my mind. But none of those are for real¾well serial killers were, but in a small town like this there weren't many of those walking around.

I tried over and over again to assure myself that I was alone as I walked down the cracked sidewalk. The obscurity and strange noises around me told other stories. I didn't dare to look anywhere other than at the ground that lay before me.

I was fine. No one was out here. Everything is okay.

The leafless trees cast claw-like shadows in the faint moonlight. They swayed and shook as if gouging the ground to uproot themselves so they could run from the cold of the approaching winter. The wet leaves and twigs beneath my feet crunched and crumbled in the leaves as I dragged my oversized boots along the path. The swirls of the insipid reds and oranges made me dizzy so I looked to the sky for comfort. The sky wasn't truly black, it was a deep navy color with scattered obsidian clouds protecting the hallowed stars from human eyes. The sacred realm of night was a terrorizing and yet all the same a captivating place.

As I walked along, the dark seemed to grow even darker and butterflies erupted in my stomach. Luckily the paths through the park had a street lamp scattered every twenty feet or so. They were tall and dark with Victorian details that loomed over you, watching and inspecting as you walked. The bulbs hadn't been changed in ten years or so and the antiques flickered and dimmed as an actual flame would. Their glow was dim but reassuring. Surely someone in the houses near would hear or see if anything happened. Right?

My heart raced and my lungs fluctuated quickly. The world around me suddenly became blurred and seemed to come down on me with a suffocating pressure. It was an oncoming panic attack. I turned quick on my heels and retraced my steps back to the only bench I could see. I collapsed onto the frosty metal with a huff. The pressure in my head began to build and I could feel the blood throbbing in my veins. I hastily dove my hand into the contents of my bag, hunting for my medicine bottle. As I rummaged through the black hole that I called a bag I heard faint footsteps against cement.

"Shit," I hissed under my breath.

Great time to have a panic attack, in the middle of the night in a dark and spooky park. Now because I'm dawdling someone was waltzing right up and I was going to get raped or killed or worse…

As I searched frantically the light footfalls came closer and closer. Even in my alacrity to find my pills and get out of there I managed to listen and observe the stranger's long and quick strides. They were walking too fast to just be wandering the streets, they were going somewhere. I eased a bit until suddenly the noise stopped.

Reluctantly my eyes trailed over the sidewalk to a pair of shoes. Oh how I hoped there was nothing in those shoes. My eyes followed along elongated legs covered in faded jeans to a lean torso sheltered in nothing but a collared shirt with the long sleeves unbuttoned and rolled up around the elbows. I hesitated at the neck. It was a handsome neck from what I could make out with the little light I had to see. Handsome or not I was hesitant to see the face of the creepy stranger standing over me as I had a panic attack in a park.

"Excuse me, are you alright?"

I froze solid. If you had touched me ever so slightly with the tip of a feather I would have shattered into a billion pieces that would then scatter through the darkness to be lost forever. I was paralyzed and utterly stunned.

"I… uh…" I stammered, my brain faltering on account on the shock. I must be dreaming, I thought as I continued to stare up to the concerned stranger. This guy couldn't be real.

"Miss?" His voice was beautiful. His words were eloquently spoken as if her were the human embodiment of the English language.

"Yes," I hasped, still suffering from my attack, "I just-"

The man smiled. If it were any other person I would furious. What type of decent person would smiled while another was being tormented? But with this stranger anger seemed to melt away from my existence all together. His face had contorted into a perfect expression only a sculpture could master. He seemed more still and solid than any man I had set eyes on before and his pale, marble skin only added to the effect. If not for the faint breathing and the eventual blink of his bright topaz eyes I could have taken him for a skillfully manufactures statuette.

Suddenly the blast of a car horn a few streets away knocked me from my trance. How silly was I? Examining this stranger as if he were some piece of art in a gallery. Strangely the features of his face struck some sort of familiarity in me.

"Panic attack," I gasped as the vision of the stranger began to quake and become distorted. I looked away quickly, plunging my hand back into the dark abyss of my bag.

"Do you need assistance?" He asked in a tone that sounded almost as though he actually cared about my health, though I doubted that he really was.

Finally clasping my hand around the pill bottled I reeled it from the bag. I waved my hand frantically, hoping he could understand that I was quite alright and would prefer it if he would leave me in peace. Didn't he know it was rude to stare? He was also adding to my suspicious mood. Normal people would have just walked by without question. This stranger didn't seem like a normal person.

I popped the top off of the bottle quickly and did so with such expertise you might I did this quite often-which I did. I spilled a pill onto my palm, threw it into my mouth and sucked it down like it were a piece of candy. I sat back on the bench, catching a quick glance at the mysterious man before tilting my head back as far as it would go. Why wasn't he gone yet?

I closed my eyes and tried to relax despite my audience. Suddenly the man spoke up, "May I sit?"

My mouth twitched. What was wrong with this guy? He must not have known that it was the middle of the night, and we were in a park and that I was a minor. I almost stood and ran but thought twice before my breathing had not yet calmed and running would only start the hyperventilating again.

I hesitated, "Well it depends. Are you a serial killer? Or a rapist?"

"No," He answered in a somewhat offended tone.

"Pedophile?"

"No." There was a twinge of anger in his eyes for a moment, but I continued.

"Okay," I said, pausing to stew in my thoughts, "Cannibal?"

He snorted, "Never."

"Well then how about a werewolf? You don't grow excess amounts of hair during a full moon do you?" Just as I said this I had the urge to look up to the sky and check what phase the moon was in.

"Werewolf?" He repeated in a tone as if it were a dirty sort of word.

"Are you?"

"No."

"Hmm," I tried to think of anything I had missed, "You're not a vampire are you?"

The stranger seemed to hesitate. A feeling slammed my gut from the inside, out. It was uncertainty and suspicion coming back to bite me, with a twinge of fear.

"Wouldn't that be something like a cannibal?" He finally said.

I rolled the idea around my head for a moment. He had a point. Vampires were undead human and they prayed on live human blood. So put aside the undead aspect of the equation and you had something along the lines of cannibalism.

"I guess you're right," I admitted, "But how do I know you're not lying?"

"Does it look like I'm lying?" He said with a strange tone. It was something I didn't quite recognize. It seemed to be a bit smug, but also had a hint of nervousness.

Slowly, I lifted my head and opened an eyes. The stranger stood in the same post and same position, with his hands in his pockets and his weight propped on one leg. His eyes though, glowed into the dim light like an animal's. They were magical and hypnotic and overwhelmed me a bit. They were full of something, something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

I swept my arm over the empty space beside me. The stranger smiled and filled it quickly. He moved in short and swift movements as if wasting the slightest bit of energy would be the death of him. There was a momentary stillness. It was unsettling and with each passing second the air seemed to grow viscous and still like the blood of the dead during rigor mortis.

I didn't like it. "So stranger, do you have a name."

He turned his head, looking to me and smiled crookedly, "Yes."

His voice was sweet and though no matter how much I hated to say it, I enjoyed listening to it. I waited for him to tell me more, I waited for him to speak again so I could hear his musical voice. Maybe that was it, he might be a singer. That might be why he seemed so familiar, but what would someone like that be walking around in a park on a horrid night like this?

I watched him as he rested in a casual position, his leg stretched out across the sidewalk in front of him and an arm laying latent across the arm rest. He seemed so rigid and so still. His statuesque body seemed as if it wasn't real and was just as it appeared, a statue. It felt as though I were alone on the chilled bench with artificial eyes gazing at me. You know, the feeling that you get as you walk by a mannequin in a clothing store. The feeling of being watched.

"Are you going to tell me?" I asked with annoyance.

The stranger then looked to me as if I had just offended him. The peculiar look in his eyes made be think of pain, or maybe confusion. I wasn't sure, emotions had never been my thing.

"Why must we always be known by a name?" He asked. The way he spoke it was as if the question had been a poem written by the greatest of poets, but the question troubled me. I shot him a look of disbelief and perplexity. Was the question meant as serious or just random babble to mess with me?

"Oh, don't tell me," I said dramatically. I put a finger to my forehead and closed by eyes

The stranger chuckled, "Are you supposed to be reading my mind?"

I shushed him, "You're going to college here aren't you? A philosophy major?"

He now looked at me as if I were completely mad, and at the moment I felt as though I were.

"No," He said apologetically as if the answer were to hurt my feelings, "The question had just been wandering through my conscience for quite some time now."

"Oh," I replied with a hint of disappointment. I felt a bit awkward then. How ridiculous had I been? How could I make such assumptions. Of course he wasn't going to college, pretty people don't go to college.

"Why do you ask?" He said softly.

My attention turned back to him, "About what? The name or the college thing?"

He smiled, all other expressions escaping him, "Both."

I wanted to choke and die. What was wrong with me? Hadn't I learned anything from my mother? The first rule of life was to "remember not to talk to strangers." Or was it to "remember to breath?"

I sighed, "Well… uh… well you threw out that philosophical crap at me, so I thought maybe you were taking a class over at the college. I just assumed, I guess. Most people don't walk around asking why we know each other's name."

He let out a laugh.

"What?" I asked briskly.

He shook his head, "You're right, most people don't do that."

The corner of my mouth twitched, "And I asked your name so I don't have to call you stranger."

"I kinda like that though."

I looked at him with a twisted face, "Stranger?"

He nodded, "It's something aside from the usual. One's name gets boring after a while."

I smiled, understanding what he meant, "That's true. So what're you doing walking around this late, talking with strangers?"

"I could ask you the same," The Stranger said lifting an eyebrow.

"But I asked you first," I argued, "So you should answer first."

"I guess that's fair. The truth is I just like walking around at night, it's not as congested as the day is. The talking with strangers part is just a bonus."

I snorted.

"You must think I'm mad," He said sounding a bit mortified.

"Well yeah. Anyone who walks around at eleven o'clock at night making light conversation with people sitting on benches having panic attacks would seem a tad insane, but we're all at different levels of insanity and some are just at higher levels than others."

"True. That was a pretty philosophical thing you know?"

I smiled, "I guess so."

"Well anyways, the night just seems to put me in such a better mood."

"But it's so much colder at night," I said, taking notice that he was only wearing a shit, "And you don't even have a coat on! You have to be freezing."

He shrugged, "No, not really. I've lived in places with this type of climate all my life, I'm used to it."

I shivered just thinking about how cold he must be. It doesn't matter if you grew up in Antarctica, I thought to myself, you still need a coat in this type of cold.

"And now it's you're turn to answer my question. Why are you walking around this late at night having panic attacks?" He asked with a smirk.

"Well the truth is I'm just walking home from work."

"No car?"

"Nope," I said miserably, shaking my head, "But I like to think that I'm helping the ecosystem."

"That's a good way to think of it. Are you always so optimistic?" he asked sounding as though her were disappointed in my optimism. I myself was quite fond of my "it could be worse" attitude.

"I guess. I mean it could always be worse," Laying my attitude on him, "I could not have a job, or a home to walk to."

The Stranger smiled charmingly. Another silence crept up on us, though this time it was not as cold. We had broken the ice and were through the hole. He stared off at something in the distance but had a thoughtful look in his eyes. He must tend to keep to himself, I thought.

I shivered, a bit from my nerves and bit from the cold. I still was uneasy with the thought of not knowing this guy's name, and the fact that it was still very, very dark out. I didn't like the dark.

"Can I tell you a secret?" The stranger whispered suddenly. Why was he whispering? It wasn't like there was anyone else in earshot.

"Sure," I said sounding a bit uncertain. Since we were being honest and open the truth was that I was just a little bit uncertain. I was uncertain of whether or not I wanted to hear this guy's secret, uncertain of this whole conversation, uncertain of this whole thing. But for some reason The Stranger seemed like a friend from long ago, it seemed like I knew him long before this moment.

"I'm actually waiting for someone."

"No way," I said, raising my eyebrows. I wondered if he had caught my sarcasm, "That's quite the secret. Your girlfriend?"

He pursed his lips, "I guess you could say that."

I eye him attentively, "What do you mean?"

He smirked, "She's a little more than that."

I scrunched my face in eagerness, "Fiancé?"

He did nothing but continue to leer at the darkness.

"Wife?" I cried rather loudly. Though none of the houses were too far away I'm sure they couldn't have hear it. My voice was quiet, no matter how loud I yelled.

The Stranger smiled and crossed his arms over his chest with his thumbs pointed up. He was ready to explain. I had once read in a book that when people cross their arms they are becoming defensive. I also read that if they stick their thumbs out while their arms are crossed it means that they are on their defenses but are still trying to maintain control and are still trying to assert themselves as offensive. Ready books about body language was very useful sometimes.

"Jeeze," I said, folding my arms just as The Stranger hand only with my thumbs tucked in, "How old are you? Nineteen? Twenty?"

He chuckled, "I'm much older than I look."

I wrinkled my nose, "My guess would be twenty-five, tops. Any older than and I'm going to have to congratulate you."

"Why?" He asked, sounding shocked. It was rather strange thing to congratulate someone on looking young.

"Because you would obviously have to had found some sort of Fountain of Youth or something-" I could have sworn he mumbled something. His lips seemed to twitch and there was a soft murmur. I didn't bother asking his what he said. If someone mumbles something it usually means they don't want other to hear, so asking them what they said would defeat the whole purpose of mumbling.

I continued despite my nosiness, "No one over twenty-five could ever look as good as you do."

The Stranger's eyes shot up to my face and his smile widened. His teeth were perfect, white and straight. I was sure that during the day his smile could reflect light so well it would blind people. Maybe that's why he only walks around at night.

I felt my muscles in my face tighten and my cheeks grow devilishly hot. I wanted to run away and hide in a hole. I basically just told some stranger I met in the park one night that I thought he was handsome. No, more than handsome. I thought he quite stunning.

"I mean-"

"I know what you mean," He said.

I sighed with relief, "Good."

There was another one of those gosh darn awkward silences again. They seemed to follow me wherever I went. I didn't have the greatest people skills and usually came up short handed when it came to conversations. I thought it was amazing that this guy stuck around as long as he did.

"I think I know you," I said suddenly. I hadn't consulted with my better judgment on whether or not to say it. I just did.

The Stranger's eyes flickered at me brightly. I wanted to stare into them for hours, but somehow resisted the urge and looked away at the ground. How dumb was I? Thinking that this guy could actually be who I thought it was, I was crazy. I mean it was just a character from a book. Jeeze!

"I don't think so," The stranger said in a surprisingly cold tone. It was a dead tone.

"I _do_ think so," I responded.

"Well I don't." He retorted. Suddenly he had gone defensive, pulling his arms around himself in a cross over his chest.

I looked to him and wrinkled my nose in anger. The Stranger snorted. I probably didn't look as tough or angry as I was trying to look. People seemed to think of me as rather harmless. I like to think that I'm not so benign.

"How do you know if I know you or not?"

"Be I know what you're thinking and the answer is no."

"Well than what am I thinking?" I growled, rather upset. He was assuming something and acting as if her knew me enough to know what I was thinking. The truth was that if he knew what I was thinking that he's probably think me mad.

"You think I'm a famous underwear model."

It felt as though the cold had slapped me in the face.

"What?" I asked shortly. Where had he gotten that idea? I had something more specific and way more crazy than that in mind. The truth, though, was that he really did look as though he would be some sort of model, thought I wouldn't have said the underwear kind. He was too white, you wouldn't be able to tell the difference between his whitey-tighties and his skin.

He smiled at me. That was all he did before rising.

"What are-" I started, watching as he stood. My question was answered before I had even finished asking it. At his side, suddenly, was a young lady. She wasn't terribly tall but was lean and had the same milky colored skin as the Stranger.

She glanced down at me with dark eyes before looking up to the Stranger, "Are you ready?"

He voice was quiet and dainty. I hated it. The Stranger smiled at me with a knowledgeable grin as though he was answering the question that had begun to stir in my head. This was his… wife. Neither of them looked old enough to be out of high school. Is early marriage a new trend or something?

I forced a smile as the woman looked back at me, "Who's this?"

I looked to the Stranger who looked from me to his companion and to me again. The crooked smile set on his face again and his eyes glittered in the moonlight like a topaz stone. I wondered what he was going to say. Things were beginning to feel awkward as he just stared down at me with a wondrous expression.

"A Stranger," Was all that slipped from his lips before he stepped past me. He grabbed his companion's hand and intertwined their fingers. They moved and swirled gracefully as if they had practiced it for a lifetime.

The two swiftly walked by me as if only passing by and continued down the leaf ridden path. I could faintly hear whispering or maybe it was wind. It was too windy to know the difference. Just as the two made It to the corner in a miraculous time the woman spoke up.

Her voice was elegant and smooth as it flowed on the wind, "Edward, you're so ridiculous sometimes."

I heard one of my back bones crack as I pushed all the air from my lungs quickly. It was just coincidence.

"It was just coincidence," I told myself sternly.

I had had the suspicion for a bit now, but I had never really mentioned it too much during our conversation. I had a silly thought in my head about who I thought the Stranger was. I had a name and an image that seemed to fit the Stranger's description, but it all seemed too absurd.

Edward? No.

Suddenly my cell phone began to ring. The sound was muffled through the junk that lay in my bag but it was still recognizable. I pulled it out after a moment of searching and flipped it open.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Hey, where are you?" It was one of my roommates.

"I'm on my way home now."

"What have you been doing this whole time, you got out of work two hours ago," She nagged. Sometimes she sounded like my mother.

"I was talking with strangers."


End file.
